


How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills,

by Samsonet



Series: Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming forbear, [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Fae Opal, Fluff, Gen, Old rivals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 11:34:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21560503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samsonet/pseuds/Samsonet
Summary: Opal appreciates Kabu. He knows how to act around the fair folk. She trusts him to be kind to her little one.HERE BE SPOILERS. Ish.
Series: Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming forbear, [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553794
Comments: 11
Kudos: 317





	How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills,

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Robert Burns’ “Afton Water.”

It’s a brave or foolish mortal who willingly wanders into the fairy realm. Opal looks upon most of them with indulgent grace, plays with them a bit, and usually lets them go. This mortal, however -- this one, she invited.

Kabu arrives at the gym fifteen minutes early. He’s wise, like that; he knows that one has to be polite in dealing with fair folk.

Opal doesn’t come out to meet him. She waits in the shadows and watches Bede take the man’s coat.

“I remember you,” Kabu says. “Bede, yes? You did well at my gym.”

And that makes Bede smile. It’s amazing, really, how much goodwill can be shown by simply remembering a name. (Opal is sure Kabu would have remembered it anyway, but she put a note in the invitation, just to be certain.)

“Thank you, sir.”

That had been the battle that put Bede on Opal’s radar, so to speak. The leaders had talked about the boy with the psychic types going up against Kabu’s fire-bug ace, and they’d laughed a little about it, but in the end, they were all impressed by how he managed to pull through. To stick with the Pokemon one liked, even when one might be encouraged to change to seize victory -- it was so deliciously dramatic.

Bede looks around the room. He’s looking for her; they all know it, but he’s still trying to seem as though his glances are mere idle motions. “I shall… show you inside, if you wish to follow me.”

It’s at this point that Opal makes her appearance. She steps into the light, her shawl fluttering behind her, and takes Bede by the shoulder. “Hello, Kabu. Welcome!”

“Good day to you, Opal.”

Good old Kabu. He hasn’t changed much; only a couple new wrinkles around his eyes, a touch of grey at his temples. Compared to the form Opal is using now, he seems to have aged so gracefully.

She leads her boys into a back room of the gym. It’s the room she uses for visitors, a cozy sitting room with a tea table in the center. Kabu has been here many times over the years, but this is the first league visit here with Bede as the gym leader.

“I’ll make the tea,” she says. It’s a duty usually left to the gym trainers, but, well, isn’t Opal herself technically a gym trainer now?

In any case, it allows her to leave the room, out of sight but within earshot.

At first, there is silence from the visiting room.

Opal hopes it doesn’t last. The whole reason why she invited Kabu instead of Milo or Nessa was because she was sure Bede would feel comfortable talking to him.

There’s a story, from a faraway region, of a girl ordered by her stepmother to gain fire from a witch’s house. The witch gives her tasks impossible for a mortal, but the girl is aided by a doll containing her dead mother’s spirit.

_Rule six: if you are offered help by the fair folk, accept it gratefully._

Opal sends her Alcremie to assist her boy.

She can hear Bede squeak -- presumably, Alcremie has hopped in his lap.

Kabu laughs. “It seems Opal’s Pokemon have taken a liking to you.”

“Her Pokemon have good hearts,” Bede says. He clears his throat and brings up the supposed reason for the visit in the first place: “So, about the next gym challenge season.”

“Yes. You’ve experienced this from the challengers’ side, but let me explain what we do as leaders...”

From there, the conversation seems to go smoothly. Opal enters stage left, bearing a tray of tea and a box of the honey cookies Bede likes so much.

The three of them talk.

It reminds Opal of her early days as a gym leader, when she was still in the spotlight as a theatre actress. In those days, Kabu’s name was often across hers in the papers; those gossip journalists did love their rivalries, after all.

Casting a glamour takes a little magic. Not too much. Just a shake of her fingers, and —

— and in the blink of an eye, Kabu appears twenty years younger. His hair is black, his face smooth. He still holds himself like an old man, back slightly hunched and fingers curled in, but that doesn’t matter. He knows the part he’s here to play.

Opal herself has put on the face she used to wear in her early years: hair jet-black, eyes dark and alluring, a button nose and cute lips.

All the world’s a stage, and Ballonea especially.

Bede stares at them both in turn, obviously caught off guard. He touches his own face, like he expects to have been transformed.

Kabu laughs. “It’s just play, boy. Let us old folk have some fun.”

In the story, when the girl meets the witch, she is intimidated by the witch’s otherworldliness and power. If it were not a fairytale, the witch could have simply killed her and be done with it. 

But since it was only a story, the witch took her in and gave her a chance to earn the fire.

Bede’s stated tasks are these: to act as a proper host, to discuss the next year’s opening ceremony, and to make an overall good impression on their visitor. His unspoken task, the one Opal is springing on him with no warning, is to see an illusion, realize that it is not necessarily harmful, and continue as though it were real.

He’s getting there.

“I should admit I haven’t been able to watch too many of your matches,” Kabu says, warming his hands on his teacup. “Can you tell me a bit about your background? Where are you from?”

“I…” Bede sighs, a little helplessly. “I’m not… ‘from’ anywhere. I lived in Rose Tower in Wyndon, for a while, back when Chairman Rose… when he...”

“When Chairman Rose did what?” Kabu prompts.

“When I thought he wanted me, I suppose.”

Opal sets down her cup more harshly than necessary.

In the story, when the witch gives her fire in the form of a skull with burning eyes, she asks by whose sponsorship the girl dared approach at all.

‘By my mother’s blessing,’ the girl said.

_Rule seven: the fair ones don’t like to hear if you belong to someone else._

Kabu, that amazing man and her best rival, picks up on the problem immediately.

“You know,” he says, “I was born in the Hoenn region, in a place called Lavaridge Town. I had to move to Motostoke when I was young.”

Bede raises an eyebrow. “Alright?”

“Let me finish.” Kabu passes him a honey cookie, which Bede takes and nibbles on. “For the longest time, I was announced as ‘Kabu of Lavaridge City.’ But it never felt quite right. Just because I was born in a place, that didn’t mean it was my home.”

“You were sponsored by the Hammerlocke Gym Leader,” Opal recalls. “That didn’t mean that you belonged to Hammerlocke, either.”

They both look at Bede meaningfully.

“Alright. I get what you two are saying,” Bede says with his mouth full. Opal frowns, and he clears his throat. “Oleana and Macro Cosmos don’t own me. I decide my path. I decide where my home is. And if you, sir, became Kabu of Motostoke, then I suppose… I am Bede of Ballonea.”

Opal’s heart swells with pride.

Too soon, the clock strikes. It’s time for the visit to end. Opal and Bede walk with Kabu outside, then say their goodbyes.

“I’ll see you two at the opening ceremony. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Wait,” Bede calls out. “One more thing, sir.”

“Yes, young man?”

The boy smiles, the fairy lights shining in his eyes. “May I please have your name?”

Kabu smiles, then laughs, then turns to walk out of the city.

**Author's Note:**

> Kabu, later: so, can I call him my grandson too?  
> Opal: please do.


End file.
